What's In a Name?
by Katriena Knights
Summary: In which Mulder and Bill Scully Jr. finally bury the hatchet, more or less. Post-Existence, pre S9


**WHAT'S IN A NAME?  
**Katriena Knights**  
**

Dana Scully maneuvered her baby's carrier out of the back seat of her car and hauled it up the steps to her mother's front door. The convertible carrier/carseat was handy, but heavy. She hadn't realized how heavy until now. Mulder usually carried it. 

Her mom met her with a bright smile, which Dana returned, hefting the carrier in through the front door. William slept on, in spite of the movement, or perhaps because of it. 

"He's so beautiful," Margaret said, smiling down at her newest grandson. The "how" of William seemed to matter very little to Margaret now he was here. He was a grandson and needed to be spoiled, and she attended to that duty with gusto every time she saw him. Dana had even brought bottles today, knowing her mother would insist on feeding William at least once. 

"You said that last time," Dana said as her mother swept up the carrier, taking it into the living room with considerably less effort than Dana had expended. 

"It's still true." She looked back at her daughter, then suddenly past her, as if realizing something. "Where's Fox?" 

"I left him at home asleep. He was up all night trying to get William to sleep." 

Margaret gave her daughter a wise look. "He's living at your place now?" 

Dana shrugged. It wasn't a big deal. "More or less." 

"I see." 

Dana rolled her eyes. "Mom, what?" 

Margaret sat on the couch, putting William and his carrier on the floor next to her feet. "You still haven't officially told me who the father of this adorable baby is." 

Dana sat down next to her mother. "Mom, take a long, hard look at that baby and then see if you can ask me that question with a straight face." 

Margaret's eyebrows rose, but she craned her head sideways, peering down at William with an expression that edged away from grandmotherly devotion into serious analysis. "Well . . . He has your red hair . . ." She stopped, looking from Dana to William and back again. "But that's definitely not your nose." 

Dana shook her head sagely. "No, it isn't. Have you seen that nose before, Mom?" 

Margaret's face softened and she looked into her daughter's face with a gentle smile. "So, just a normal, everyday baby after all." 

Dana nodded. "As normal and everyday as can be expected, considering his parents." 

Margaret touched her daughter's knee. "I'm happy for you, Dana." 

"Are you? Really and truly?" Suddenly her mother's approval seemed profoundly important. 

"Yes. Really and truly." She took her daughter in her arms and held her, and Dana let all her doubts about the future disappear in the comfort of her mother's   
embrace. 

# 

Mulder woke abruptly and stared at the clock. Eleven-thirty. They'd planned to leave for Scully's mom's house at eleven. He rolled over. Scully was gone. So was William. 

Startled at the turn of events, he sat up. Then he saw the note on Scully's pillow. 

_Sleepyhead. Left without you. Call me when you wake up. Thanks for last night. S._

What in the world had he done last night, except pace for hours with William on his shoulder while Scully slept? He didn't feel that was above or beyond the call of duty. 

He shaved, showered, dressed, and called, listening to the ringing in trepidation, afraid Bill might pick up. Bill was supposed to be there, after all. But Margaret's voice greeted him and passed him on to Scully. 

"I told Mom you'd be late. You'll still make it in time for lunch." 

"Is your brother there?" 

"Yes, he's here. He brought a rifle and a baseball bat. Just get over here, Mulder." 

She thought she was pretty damn funny, that one. Mulder's own influence rubbing off on her, no doubt. He threw on a jacket and headed out the door. 

# 

By the time he got there, they were all gathered in the living room, cooing over the baby while Margaret fed him a bottle. Bill's wife, Tara, looked up with a warm smile as Margaret escorted him into the room, but Bill's regard was, as usual, chilly. Their son, Matthew, involved in a pile of Legos, seemed uninterested. 

"You all remember Fox," Margaret said as Mulder made his way to safe haven on the couch next to Scully. Bill's gaze followed him, then went back and forth between his face and the baby's a few times. _Yeah, the kid's got my nose. So sue me._

Margaret positioned herself in front of the small group, obviously preparing to make an announcement. "Dinner won't be until one thirty. That's because we have to wait for Charles." 

Scully's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Charlie's coming?" 

"Yes, he is." 

She grasped Mulder's hand, squeezing it. "That's so great!" 

Mulder smiled wanly back at her. _Great. Another brother to hate me._

"Well, he couldn't miss the chance to meet his new nephew." 

"Will he get any more answers than the rest of us?" Bill said. Tara gave him a sharp look. 

"Give it a rest, Bill," said Scully. Margaret sat down in a chair, watching her children with trepidation. 

Tension hung in the air until Tara gently cleared her throat. "So, Dana, what's the baby's middle name?" 

"Or his last name, for that matter," Bill put in. 

Scully glared at Bill. "His name is William Fox Mulder, and if that doesn't answer enough of your questions, then I don't know what will." 

Mulder leaned into Scully, pressing his shoulder against hers, and mumbled, "I thought you were going to use your last name." And she hadn't mentioned the "Fox"   
thing at all. He would have done his damnedest to nix it if she had. 

Her sparking eyes didn't waver from her brother's. "I changed my mind." 

"Okay." This seemed like an opportune time for Mulder to shut up. He peered down at his hands for a moment, then looked up to find Bill lacerating him with a glare. 

"So, _Fox_," Bill said. "How about some hoops?" 

Mulder matched his look, suddenly very still. The set of Bill's body offered a challenge his words did not, and Mulder knew he couldn't afford not to take it. "Sure." 

Dana watched them not quite stalk out the door, and rolled her eyes at her mother. "Do you have any air freshener? This room reeks of testosterone." 

Margaret smiled, but only a little. "They're both very proud men. They'll have to work it out, if Fox is going to be part of the family." 

Dana sank back into the couch. "You know he hates to be called Fox, don't you?" 

The smile edged toward a smirk. "I know." 

# 

Bill Scully wasn't the greatest basketball player, Mulder determined, dribbling the ball neatly past him and scoring yet another picture-perfect lay-up. He could feel the anger building in his opponent, and knew he should back off, but he couldn't bring himself to. Yeah, Bill had good reason to dislike Mulder, but it was time to let that shit go. 

Bill had the ball now and dribbled it slowly, standing near the far end of the driveway, regarding his opponent. Mulder waited, knowing Bill was using the delay to catch his breath. 

"So," Bill finally said, "what do you intend to do about this situation?" 

"What situation is that?" 

"Let's see. Apparently you got my sister pregnant, and now you're unemployed, living in her house, eating her food, and generally taking advantage of her in every   
way possible." 

Mulder shook his head. "Scully was right. You did show up with a rifle and a baseball bat." 

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. You are a piece of work." He began to move, dribbling toward Mulder. Mulder tracked his moves closely. Bill was bigger than he was, but Mulder was faster. 

"I'm sorry, Bill, but I don't see what the problem is." 

"Of course you wouldn't. Everything always works out to your advantage, doesn't it?" He made a break then, barreling toward the basket, going for the shot. It bounced off the rim and Mulder scooped it out of the air. 

"Let's see. My sister was kidnapped and murdered by government agents, my dad got shot in the head by the same, my partner almost died of cancer--" He was working up an inappropriately intense head of steam, but he wasn't going to stop now. "--my mom _killed_ herself last year, then I was abducted and I was frigging _dead_ for four months after being tortured for weeks on end, then when I got back they asked me could I please leave the FBI forever. How is that working out to my advantage?" 

"It's a sad story, isn't it?" Bill moved to intercept Mulder's shot, missed by a mile. The ball rolled around the rim and dropped through. "Even if only half of it's   
true." 

Mulder collected the ball and threw it at him, hard. Bill caught it with a grunt. 

"It's all true, you bastard. What the hell do you want from me?" 

"I want you out of Dana's life." 

"I don't think that's what she wants." 

"I don't think she knows what she wants. She's been around you for so long you've twisted her all up so she can't even think straight any more." 

This was ridiculous. "Okay, fine. So where the hell have you been? You act like you're Scully's big protector, but where the hell have you been? Who dragged his sorry ass halfway across the world to Antarctica to save her life? Who told them to put that chip back in her neck? And who made sure she got to the hospital after her baby was born? Not you, buddy. Me. If anybody's Scully's protector, it's me." 

Bill's face had turned alarmingly red. "Scully," he said, his voice dripping with resentment. 

He threw the ball back to Mulder, too hard, too fast, and right at Mulder's face. 

# 

Dana, nervous about leaving Bill and Mulder alone for any length of time, had been watching the "friendly" game through the kitchen window while she peeled potatoes. So she saw the basketball smash into Mulder's face, saw the blood fly. 

"Oh, my God," she said, throwing the potato peeler into the sink. She ran for the front door. Margaret ran after her, William in her arms. Tara trailed after with Matthew. 

When she got to the driveway Mulder was half bent over, hands over his face, blood pouring between his fingers. Dana ran to him, barely pausing to shove her brother, hard, on her way by. "What the hell did you do?" She knelt next to Mulder, peeling his fingers back. 

"Shit," said Mulder. "Shit, shit . . ." Matthew's little feet stopped at the edge of the driveway. " . . . shoot, darn it . . . This really _hurts_, Scully." 

Margaret fished the drool-catching cloth diaper out from under William and handed it to Dana, who pressed it to Mulder's nose. Holding the blood back, she found the bone and wiggled it gently. "It's not broken. Let's get you cleaned up." 

Inside, she sat him down in a chair in the middle of the kitchen and mopped up the blood with washcloths until it finally stopped. The others gathered around in a circle, watching. It was like being in an operating theater, she thought wryly. But nobody said anything until the bleeding had stopped and Mulder was holding an ice pack to his face, the skin around his eyes already beginning to color up. Then Tara turned to her husband. 

"I hope you know you look like an utter jackass now." 

Bill said nothing. 

"Apologize, Bill," Margaret snapped. 

Mulder lifted a hand. "A forced apology isn't going to help anything. We need to get this straightened out or Christmas is going to be hell." 

Bill's mouth tightened. "You plan to be around for Christmas?" 

"I plan to be around for a long time." 

"Unemployed and living off my sister." 

"Bill--" Dana started, but Mulder cut her off with a movement of his hand. She backed off. This had to be his fight. 

"Not that this is any of your damned business, but I have some money socked away. I didn't live in that piece of . . . crap apartment all that time for nothing. Scully and I have an agreement. After her maternity leave's over, she's going to go back to Quantico to teach and I'm going to stay home with William for a while." 

"Why?" Bill made the single word a challenge. 

"Why?" Mulder sputtered. "Because I like to watch Oprah. What kind of a question is that?" 

"Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like you're some kind of happy little family?" 

Mulder shook his head. "God, Bill, are you blind? He's my son." He pointed at William and then at his own bruised and bloody nose. Dana put her hand over her mouth, not sure if the sound trying to come out was a laugh or a sob. 

"So that's it? You feel a responsibility to the baby?" 

Dana eyed her brother intently, not sure where Bill was going or why it was so dreadfully important to him. She'd understood Bill's dislike of Mulder before, but this was something different. 

"Yes, I feel a responsibility to the baby. And to Scully. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I care a great deal for your sister." 

"Then why--" Bill broke off, his hands clenching into fists. Dana tensed, afraid she was about to have to mop up more blood. "Then why can't you call her by her first name?" 

Silence fell, stunned and strange. Mulder stared at Bill and Bill stared back, his face tight. Finally Mulder shook his head in disbelief. 

"Is that what this is about?" He shifted in his chair, lowering the ice pack. His eyes looked puffy. "I was up half the night rocking and singing and pacing the floor, not to mention changing the most disgusting diapers you've ever seen. I'm _there_, Bill. I'm _with_ her. What the hell does it matter what I _call_ her?" 

Bill looked at Dana. "Is that true?" 

Dana shrugged. "Well, calling it singing might be a little generous." 

Mulder looked at her, his mouth twitching. Then he got out of the chair and walked to her, laying his free hand on her shoulder. He looked her directly in the eyes and said, a shade too melodramatically, "I love you, Dana." He bent and kissed her, full on the mouth, just a little too thoroughly for family consumption. Startled, she returned the kiss and tried to remember if he'd ever actually said the "L" word before. 

That awkward silence fell again as Margaret lifted her eyebrows and Tara covered a grin with one hand. Finally, Mulder pulled away. 

Bill cleared his throat. "That was unnecessary." 

"Sorry," said Mulder. "I thought you analytical types needed hard evidence." 

He put the ice pack back to his face and stalked out of the house. 

Dana looked at her mother. "I didn't raise him." 

"You haven't trained him very well, either," Margaret replied with a smile. "Go on. Go talk to him." 

He was sitting on the front porch, looking miserable, shifting the ice pack against his face in an apparently vain attempt to make it comfortable. She sat down next to him. 

"Got any 'hard evidence' for me?" 

He snorted. "You're a sick woman, Scully." 

"Better call me Dana. Otherwise I might think you don't love me." She paused, looking at her hands. "That was a hell of a way to hear it." 

"I think you knew." 

"I did. By the way, the feeling's mutual." She grinned. "Fox." 

He shook his head. "God, I hate that." 

"I'm sorry. Mom refuses to stop." She giggled then. "I'm really sorry." 

"It's okay." He tucked his arm around her shoulders. "When you, um . . . come . . . you call me Fox." 

She blushed. "I know." 

"It's like--" He put the ice down and lifted his hands, curling his fingers next to his face. "Oh, God. Oh, God, Fox. Oh, my God." After that he couldn't keep a straight face and put the ice pack back against his nose to cover his grin. "I hate that, too." 

She smacked his shoulder, not sure whether to be embarrassed or amused. "You do not hate that." 

He shrugged. "Okay, that I don't mind." 

She shook her head, wondering for the thousandth time what exactly she'd gotten herself into, probably for the rest of her life. "Bill's right. You _are_ a piece of work." 

They sat for a moment, then a car pulled into the driveway. A tall man with red hair got out and walked up the sidewalk. 

"Charlie!" Dana cried, and ran to meet him. He engulfed her in a hug, then walked up the sidewalk with her, an arm draped over her shoulders. Mulder stood as they approached. 

"Charlie," said Dana, "this is Fox Mulder. I'm sure you've heard him mentioned." 

"Yes, indeed, I have." He grinned and held out a hand, which Mulder took. "Good to meet you." Then he eyed Mulder's swollen face. "Bill?" 

Mulder nodded. "Bill." 

Dana grinned as Charlie grabbed an obviously startled Mulder in a warm hug. "Welcome to the family, Fox." 

**END**.


End file.
